A Bitter Taste
by obsessedwithstabler
Summary: He knew he meant everything to her, and he tried to pretend that she meant nothing to him. But somewhere along that thin line between love and hate, he had fallen, hard.


I'll tell you guys right now: This is a Kleenex story! Be warned, grab some before you start reading. There's a major character death mentioned. This is the first time I've done something like this, so I'm excited. It's also fairly short, but I felt that anymore would have ruined what I was going for. Even though I didn't really know what I was going for... LOL. Enjoy my 298th story, A Bitter Taste.

Disclaimer: Not mine!

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Gregory House had always known life was unfair.

From the time he was a young child, it had been drilled into his head by his hardened father. Life was unfair, and he just had to get used to it. Pets died, people left, and nothing was ever permanent, except pain.

Maybe, to a degree, that was why he had chosen his profession. Because he knew what to expect. He was bitter, and people died. It fit.

Then she came along, and suddenly nothing fit anymore. She was his exact opposite. She cared where he didn't, and she loved when he was certain that his heart just wasn't capable of it anymore. He knew he meant everything to her, and he tried to pretend that she meant nothing to him.

But somewhere along that thin line between love and hate, he had fallen, hard.

Wilson came up behind his best friend, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

House shrugged it off.

"Do you want to see her?" Wilson asked gently.

His grip tightened on his cane until his knuckles were white. Did he want to see her? He didn't know.

"House, come on. She needs you."

He scoffed, shaking his head. There was no way in hell that she needed him. He was a drug addict, a self serving bastard who put no one before himself. If anything, she was better off without him.

Wilson's frown deepened noticeably. Normally, his behavior wouldn't surprise him, but this time was different. This time, he couldn't push her away. He had to do something.

Without another word, Wilson stepped past him and opened the door, disappearing for a minute.

House didn't pay attention to his best friend.

When Wilson reappeared, there was a soft look on his face.

House looked at him, then looked away.

"House, she needs you," he repeated as he laid the tiny pink bundle in his best friend's free arm.

Shocked, House looked down at the red, squirming baby cradled in his free arm. "Wilson..."

Wilson held his hands up, taking a step back. "No, House. She's your daughter, and she needs you."

"She doesn't need me!" She'd be better off with anyone but him. The poor kid would have a better chance at having a normal life.

"Yes, she does!"

The baby yawned and snuggled into him, her dark eyelashes fluttering against soft, perfect baby skin. House swallowed hard. The one woman he had truly let into his heart was gone, and in his arms he held the one thing she had wanted above everything else in the world. A child.

Wilson watched his best friend's face fall, and he reached out and touched the other man's arm. "House..." His voice was soft and gentle. "House, you're all she has. You need to be a man and take care of her."

House clenched his eyes shut, taking ragged breaths. How could he take care of a baby? A small, defenseless, innocent baby that was completely dependant on him. He could barely take care of himself. When he found out that she was pregnant with this baby, he hadn't been thrilled. But seeing her so happy, so vibrant as the months passed slowly convinced him that maybe, with her, he could do this. He could be a better father than his dad ever was.

Then what seemed like a lifetime ago, when it was in fact only ten hours ago, she died after giving birth to the child that she had waited her whole life to have.

And House felt his life ending.

He looked at the bracelet that dwarfed a tiny hand. Baby Girl House. His shoulders shook as he held the newborn closer. Just a few hours ago, he had contemplated handing her over to the grieving parents of her mother. He wasn't fit to take care of a baby. But now, holding her... He turned around and limped away from the nursery, away from the stunned Wilson.

"House, what are you doing?"

He breathed in, then turned around and met his best friend's dark brown eyes. "I'm a selfish bastard." He had to be. He wanted to take this kid. His kid. He wanted to see if he could do it, even though the implications were heavy. His life wouldn't be his anymore. It would be hers. He turned back around and limped in the direction of his office.

"What's her name?"

He paused again, looking down at the baby girl whose sleep remained undisturbed.

"Cameron."

The End

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I'm evil for killing Cameron. But what the muse bunny wants... Although it was horribly sad, I hope everyone enjoyed it, and everyone who reviews gets a free plot bunny! *starts handing out plot bunnies*


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